Page 52 of A Virgin for the Duke of Ash

“For Lady Evelyn Fitzroy,” Madame Dumosse announced in her pleasantly accented voice. She motioned for one of her assistants to approach her with the largest box and turned towards Evie. “His Grace commissioned your wedding dress just last week. It is the most beautiful creation of theatelier, to date.”

Evie frowned slightly at that.

Last week? But we had not even?—

“Oh, what perfect timing!” Scarlett clapped her hands excitedly, seemingly oblivious to the confusion on her friend’s face. “Quick, Evie! Let us see it!”

“His Grace certainly is generous.” Lady Wellington smiled in approval.

“Indeed,” Evie murmured, still in shock. She had not even thought to buy a dress specifically for her wedding.

“Well, you did not think that Daniel would have allowed you to walk down the aisle in any dress, did you?” The Dowager Duchess laughed.

The lack of response from Evie told her that she did exactly that.

Most brides had months to prepare before their nuptials, but with her own so close, she barely had any time to prepare.

“Not exactly just any dress.” She smiled sheepishly. “I have a beautiful gown that I have yet to wear?—”

“Non! Non!” Madame Dumosse gasped, a hand to her heart as if Evie had just uttered something sacrilegious. Or treasonous. “How could we allow a duchess to walk down the aisle in ordinary garb?”

“It is not exactly ordinary?—”

The gown she had in mind was specially commissioned from Madame Dumosse at the start of the Season, and she had saved the beautiful ice-blue dress for a more… special occasion. However, thecouturièrereacted as if she had just announced she was going to get married in one of her old morning dresses. It truly was laughable.

“His Grace really should not have…” she trailed off helplessly.

“Nonsense!” Madame Dumosse smiled at her. “This is a show of His Grace’s affection. Why, I had never had a man barge into theatelierto demand anything for his betrothed! Most would even beg me to stow away my finest fabrics before their wives arrived!” she added with a mischievous wink.

Indeed, it was most generous of Daniel to have commissioned a dress especially for her and at the height of the Season, at that. No doubt about it, Madame Dumosse and her seamstresses must have worked day and night to finish the gown, not to mention all the other commissions they must have set aside to finish this particular dress at such a tight deadline.

If it had been her business, Evie would have been left in tears at such a request.

Daniel does not make requests.He makes demands, and he always, always expects them to be fulfilled.

In any case, he must have paid quite a premium for it. No businessman in his right mind would throw away half his clientèle for the demands of just one client, unless they knew that taking such a risk would more than make up for it—and Evie believed that Madame Dumosse was a particularly shrewd businesswoman. She had to be to become one of the most sought-aftercouturièresin all of London.

At Scarlett’s enthusiastic urging, she slowly lifted the cover of the box that had been held out for her. A layer of tissue paper covered the dress wrapped carefully within. When she lifted the tissue paper, a collective gasp rang out in the room, and Evie felt her heart stop.

Inside the box was simply the most beautiful dress she had ever seen—and she had not even lifted it yet. The fabric looked as if someone had gathered the moonlight and spun it into cloth. Crystals encrusted the bodice in delicate, lacy patterns, almost as if someone had collected the stars in the sky and sewn them into the fabric.

“Oh, that is lovely!” Phoebe breathed in awe. “His Grace is a man of great taste.”

“He is, indeed.” Madame Dumosse nodded in agreement. “In fact, he was the one who chose the fabric.”

Even Evie was surprised. “He did?”

Thecouturièresmiled. “He said he wanted his bride to be garbed in moonlight.”

“That is… very romantic,” Scarlett muttered. “And so unlike the Duke.”

“Hush!” Phoebe chastised her softly. “That is not very nice.”

“But I am rarely nice.” The redhead grinned back at her. “Much to my mama’s dismay, I’m afraid.”

The other ladies burst into laughter at her blunt honesty, and even Madame Dumosse promised her that she would make just as beautiful a dress for her for her own wedding.

“Of course, you must be betrothed first.” Evie chortled. “After all, one cannot have a wedding trousseau without a wedding.”

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